


Hiraeth

by merin_b



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and stuff, Character Development, Development, Eventual Smut, F/M, Family Drama, Feelz, Fluff, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Relationship Development, all da feelz, dont talk shit about his fav western movies tho, drag his cowboy ass, eventual jesse mccree x oc, jack morrison is your dad and he basically wasnt doing a very good job, mccree is a fluffball, mccree loves it when you roast him, what are tags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-27
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-09-20 07:04:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9480416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merin_b/pseuds/merin_b
Summary: Too loyal to bother raising her; he'd left her behind with another woman, only bothering to show up at birthdays and occasionally a holiday if he wasn't busy.She was a fucking mistake.Although perhaps the worst part of it all was; he loved her. Oh, he loved her dearly. Whenever he would look at her, his eyes filled with love and overflowing with guilt whenever he'd leave.She couldn't be angry.So she wouldn't be.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> have a bunch of feel trash  
> i really like how the backstory turned out to be. got the inspiration right when i played the thing for the first time (youll know what im talking about soon enough!!)  
> enjoy!  
> tw:// mentions of mental illness (anxiety)
> 
> st: this world - ramin djawadi

The wet tombstones felt like the soft petals of a rose in the rain. The black-painted nails fitted the grey like the scene out of an old movie. A soft sigh escaped her lips and she reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ears.

The sound of raindrops dripping on her umbrella were soothing the last remaining anxiety she'd gotten before coming here.

_**HERE LIES** _

_**JACK MORRISON** _

_**COMMANDER AND LOVING FATHER** _

_**OVERWATCH** _

The words never ceased to make her feel sick. There was more, however. Anger. Despair. _Sadness_. How dare he leave her behind like this, with nothing? Nowhere to turn? He'd been practically a stranger and the only thing she knew was that he was a loyal soldier.

Too loyal to bother raising her; he'd left her behind with another woman, only bothering to show up at birthdays and occasionally a holiday if he wasn't busy.

_She was a fucking mistake._

Although perhaps the worst part of it all was; he loved her. Oh, how he loved her dearly. Whenever he would look at her, his eyes filled with love and overflowing with guilt whenever he'd leave.

She couldn't be angry.

So she wouldn't be.

She would try to accept it, when she was old enough. She would try to understand, or atleast pretend to when he bothered coming around.

But then he fucking _died_. He left her behind without a trace of her possible past. She longed to something familiar. Some kind of pattern—she left for college, tried living the small life with studying and all that.

It haunted her. His face, his icy-blue eyes. And something else. Something... _red_ , angry.

It felt like he was watching over her shoulder.

Following her every single movement.

How did he have the nerve to judge her, even in his death? When he barely knew her at all?

"I _hate_ you.." she whispered with a tone of venom to his tombstone. It was the anniversary of his death. She lost count, although it was a long time ago. "I hate you, _dad_. I don't know if you can hear me, but I hate you. _I. hate. You_."

But the tears proved her wrong; her gut was wrenching itself together, remains of her breakfast were rising and she swallowed a few times to keep it down and not throw up all over her father's grave.

_She was a mistake._

When college ended and she graduated as highest of her class, she continued mastering in University for biotech engineering. She was regarded as one of the most talented students in university and she treated her work as her own outlet, disregarding any social interactions except for business-alike or class meetings. Her life was lonely, but she found comfort in the (small) victories she made while studying for exams or finishing up her own directed projects.

The offer for her to work at one of the world's most advanced labaratoriums came when she was close to graduating from university. The letter came from noone other than Mehmet Farhat, one of the eight leading scientists who founded the huge city called _Oasis_ ; a place that pushed the modern technology to further beyond than what was possible. She was promised to do as she pleased; to participate in projects, or to start her own. Fundations were a worry of the past and her wage and healthcare coverage were to be taken care of.

In other words, she would be rich and in exchange she could do what she wanted.

Without thinking it through she accepted the offer; 72 hours later she was on a high speed jet plane off to the desert, the place she'd label ' _home_ ' till present.

Oasis was everything they promised her to be; she was put into a divison that focused on medical technology. She worked in a team with ten talented people and 2 omnics. Shutting herself off was out of the question as working together was vital for the sake of progess, and she soon began to warm up to her team; they were all alike, and she found pleasure in letting her guard down while working.

The university was magnificent, truly. They were let freely, the eight leading scientists overseeing but never interfering without necessity.

In her free time, she would go into the city or the gardens. It was truly a sight to behold; Oasis seemed like paradise.

There was always a downside to every perfect story.

She was broken. Late at night, her beautiful apartment that oversaw the gardens felt cold and lonely. In _truth_ , she hated the place. 

Other members of her team had a family; a spouse, or were dating, _atleast_. She never found the urge to follow their example. Besides, she didn't envision herself as a desirable person. The backpack on her back had too much emotional bagage. 

_She was a mistake._

 

"Nice you don't have to worry about me anymore, huh? You were selfish enough to just leave me be. Not like I was your fucking problem anyway." she spat at the grave in front of her.

Regardless at the bitter taste in her mouth, she unclenched the rose between her now freezing hands. Some blood seeped down her fingers; the thorns had been pressed into her skin without her knowing.  
Slowly, she put down the rose on the grave, a sigh escaping her lips as she tried her best to remain calm. 

 _You've made it to yet another year_ , she told herself, raising herself up to her feet again and turning around. She started to walk away when she spotted a figure in the distance, watching her; something red was glowing.

A tiny horizontal line.

Just as quickly as she spotted it, it disappeared right in front of her.

She _ran._

_Into it's direction._

"I'm not crazy." she chanted, jogging and focusing to see if she could figure out where it's gone off to.

She'd seen it before. 

_In the crowds on busy days in the shopping mall._

_In the grocery store when she came back here._

_In the airport when she would return to Oasis._

_When she was asleep._

"I'm not crazy, damnit!" she chanted again, harder this time as if to convince herself.

Her legs carried her; it almost felt as if she didn't have to command her body to move.

"Where are you?!" she yelled, frustrated and angry.

"I know you're out there! Why have you been _following_ me?!" 

The empty streets held no answer. After five minutes of running she halted, panting and slightly out of breath.

Maybe the inner projections of her father were taking over. That could be an answer, _right_? It was his anniversary after all and she hadn't been here for a year.

That would be it.

But would that mean.. she wás going crazy. A _psychosis_. How would she have to explain to her colleagues that she was becoming part of the problem they were trying to solve? Or worse, they would use her as a lab rat and test on her.

Oh god, _paranoia_. Another sign of psychosis. Her heart started to beat rapidly and her fast breathing increased.

She was having a goddamn panic attack in the middle of an empty street, with just a forest and a cemetary to watch over her. 

 

A gunshot rang through the air and she screamed. When she looked up, she was lying on the ground, behind a gigantic dumpster right next to the cemetary gates. _What in the.._

Her eyes shot up, a gigantic body was looming over her; a blue jacket shielding her from whatever scene was playing out on the streets.

Rifle shots were fired and she covered her ears from the noise, screaming out of shock. 

It went on for several minutes, until suddenly, as quick as it'd happened, it died away in the rain. Slowly, she raised her hands and started to shake.

"M-my _wallet_.. is in my.. left pocket. Take me and leave m-me alone, p-please. I _didn_ -" 

"76 to Winston. Area cleared of hostiles. Ready for extraction. Target is safe." 

That voice.

It _couldn't_ be.

She was going crazy.

"Roger that, 76. Extraction will find place in about 10 minutes. How are you holding up?" 

Silence. The blue demon loomed over her, his gray-haired head turning towards her. 

The red visor.

It was him. The one who'd been following her all this time.

Her body was trembling and tears were rolling down her cheeks, hands still raised in the air.

"[Y/n] is fine. Over and out." 

With her body going limp and her vision going black, she fell backwards, only to be caught by gloved hands. 

_She was a mistake._

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> somewhere in between - august wilhelmsson

As she drifted between the land of the living and the barrier of unconsciousness, her usual nightmares plagued her. Some she could remember; others not. She wasn't sure whether they were solid memories or simply her mind's imagination.

What she was sure of, is that they were infact not nightmares. They were pleasant; simple figments of things she missed.

She'd label them as nightmares because they kept taunting her whenever she closed her eyes. Usually the only way to somehow fight them off was to gulp down half a bottle of whiskey after work.

 

While she was swimming through a hazy cloud of questionable past fragments, she would often hear voices floating above her head; one seemed familiar. The other one she couldn't quite place, although her subconsciousness had already labeled her as a non-threatening source.

". _.stable for now. Went through several states of shock, we're keeping her sedated for now. Um Himmels Willen, 76_. _I told you this was a bad idea!_ " 

" _She'll get through it._ " 

"-- _enough emotionally damaged as it is, but no one ever listens to me. Dr Ziegler this and that, completely ignoring me so I can all waggle and point at you and say 'I told you so'. Tatsächlich!_ "

" _I did it to protect her. This is my responsibility_." 

" _You think she's going to appreciate that? Hmm? Dummkopf._ "

" _She won't have to appreciate it. It's not forgiveness what I'm after._ " 

" _You keep telling yourself that, Commander. Now scoot. Her readings are showing increased activity, meaning she'll wake up soon._ "

The words lingered for a brief moment before she completely lost consciousness again.

 

What felt like an eternity later, her muscles started to cramp and her spine felt like it was on fire. She shot up straight, breathing heavily as sweat poured down her forehead and ran down her cheeks. With widened eyes, she looked around like a rabid dog, trying to find out where she was.

The place was too small to look like the Oasis hospital; she'd been there, to visit and monitor her newly placed devices.

"Ah! You're awak—lieber _Gott_!" 

A familiar feminine voice warped her back to reality and she immediately took in the sight of the intruder. She looked harmless; a doctor's coat, a short blonde ponytail and a friendly face for sore eyes. It soothed her, knowing that this woman, was a fellow medic. She knew when she spotted one.

"Calm down now,  _Liebling_. You've had quite the wake up fright, I see." the woman offered as an attempt to comfort her. It worked, somewhat.

The _voice_.. It was the same who had taken guard while she'd been unconscious. 

"Where am I?" [Y/N] asked, voice hoarse from the lack of usage. It hurted. 

The doctor shifted uncomfortable. "That's a.. rather difficult question. I will answer it after I will bring you some food, hmm? You must be sick of being fed through a tube." 

[Y/N] raised her eyebrows. "How long was I out?" 

The woman in front of her tried to remain casual.

"We kept you sedated for a week. You suffered from some internal shock, psychically as well as mentally. We figured it'd best to keep you down under for a while, until your readings would stabilize once more." 

[Y/N] still had too many questions. Indeed, the answers she'd gotten so far had only made her mind spin more senseless theories. _Was the voice_..? The man she'd seen. Maybe she knew the truth.

 

Maybe she did. 

 

Like hell she would accept that it was reality rather than some made-up nonesense by her disfigured brain. _No_. It was just stress. Stress and a sleepless nights and too many over-shifts that had caused the hallucination to take place. 

And this stranger in front of her just got mixed up. That's how her mind worked, right? Mix up the fictional with non-fictional.

The expression of the woman standing in front of her changed to discomfort. [Y/N] realized she'd been staring while trying to process everything she'd said.

"Oh, right! How barbaric of me not to introduce myself. My name is doctor Angela Ziegler, I will try my best to monitor your health and get you as quickly back up your feet as I possibly can." the doctor said to [Y/N], now offering a genuine smile which she couldn't help but lamely return.

"My name is [Y/N] Morrison. Although I have a feeling you already.. know this." [Y/N] declared, her last name sounding foreign to her after not having it used for a very long time.

Dr Ziegler seemed to flinch at the mention of her last name. "That is correct, [Y/N]. I know you must have a lot of questions and I promise you will get answers to all of them. I will call for someone to bring you some food that isn't just liquid." she made a beeline for the door, almost to avoid another question. "In the meantime, me and a.. _colleague_.. have some business to discuss. Go rest some more." 

With those words, she left the med bay.

[Y/N] sighed to herself and relax back down into the soft mattress. A small part hoped that she would wake up from whatever crazy dream she was having and wake up in her shitty apartment, with saliva drooling down her chin and an empty bottle in her hand. It seemed, however, that reality had a different plan for her as the door of the med bay bursted open with a deafening bang.

"Woops! Sorry 'bout that! Didn't mean to scare ya!" 

A figure zipped past her and before she knew it she was staring at a woman about her age, with short spikey hair and a freckled nose. The stranger tried to kick a buzzing device on her back. "Bloody garbage. Gotta let Winston take care of that thing.." she mumbled, rather to herself than to [Y/N], who only had a look of surprise on her face.

The woman looked at her again, composing herself with a grin. "Right! Introductions in order, innit? Names Lena Oxford, Tracer, whatever ya wanna call me! Prefer just Lena though." 

Her warm hand enveloped [Y/N]'s hand and she shook it gently. "Nice havin' a new face around, I'd say! Angela told me you looked worse for the wear but I'd say you look fresh as a daisy Luv!"

[Y/N] blushed. She wasn't used to this much kindness in one hour.

"Right, _talky_ -talk Lena at it again. I brought you some food. Not the IV kind, a proper good meal this is. Scrambled eggs and bacon on toast and a cup of tea and coffee. Didn't know your preference so I just brought both. Help y'self to whatever!"

Unable to bring out her social-butterflyness after everything she went through, she was grateful that the chipper girl had no issue keeping the silence filled. [Y/N] focused her attention on the plate which had a mount of food on it. Instantly her mouth began to water as she realized the last time she'd eaten proper food was days ago.

"I'm [Y/N]," [Y/N] offered sheepishly, although Lena probably already knew. Hell, it seemed everyone knew what was going on except for her. 

Lena smiled. "Winston told us. Don't worry, everything will make sense soon enough. Now, go enjoy your meal. When you're finished I'll take you to the bathroom so you can freshen up."

[Y/N] nodded gratefully and began digging into the pile of food. Lena zipped out of the room, presumably to take care of something or to report on her state of wellbeing. Meanwhile, [Y/N] tried her best to remain calm and not burst out into a huge panic attack. She munched on her food slowly, savoring the taste as if it was her last meal.

The image of the stranger in the blue jacket haunted her. Her brain had already made up the conclusion on the identity but [Y/N] refused to believe it until she'd actually see him for herself; there could be no such thing, right? Unless..

Unless everything had been fake. Her mourning had been for nothing. The longing to something solid, a family, a _home_.. The torture had been for nothing. If he'd just been dead for real..

She didn't know what was worse. 

She prefered the latter.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> odesza - always this late

As promised, Tracer had shown her where the showers were once [Y/N] was done with her meal.  
Her eyes were closed while she ran her hands through her soaked hair as she tried to sort out her feelings and thoughts. A headache was pounding between her ears and she wanted nothing more than to go back to that hospital bed and hide from all the strangers and crazy conspiracies.

  
Reality was different. She knew she had to turn off the shower at some point; she was already finished but uncapable of leaving the comforting warmth from the flowing water.  
It wasn't until she heard the pounding on the door when she finally reached for the knob to turn off the water. "You alright?!" a strange male voice questioned from the other side.

[Y/N] surpressed moaning out loud from frustration and pushed away the shower curtain. "Yeah, just need a few more minutes!" she yelled back before stepping onto the soft mat and grabbing the towel that was provided to her by Tracer, along with a standard Overwatch issue outfit; her own clothes had been too dirty and damaged.  
When she was done drying herself off, she got dressed and made sure all the excess water was wrung out her hair. She quickly tied her hair in a bun before opening the door and spotting a man she hadn't seen before.

  
_Oh man, this better be a joke._

  
The man noticed her and raked his eyes over her form up and down. A grin appeared on his face, but [Y/N] decided to be the first one to break the tension; she could read him like an open book.  
"Is this.. for real?" she asked, gesturing at his outfit and the cowboy hat. "You auditioning for the _Good, Bad & Ugly_ reboot or something?"   
The stranger scoffed, hands slipping off his _BAMF_ buckle before sighing out loud. He seemed to be pondering his reponse before finally speaking.  
"First of all, _missy_ , don't you ever dare badmouthin' the _Good, Bad & Ugly_ in my presence. _Pronto_. Ain't nothin' wrong with a good classic. Second of all..."  
[Y/N] raised her eyebrows at him.  
"..I ain't finished comin' up with a second point yet." he confessed, adjusting his hat and pushing himself away from the wall he'd been leaning against.

[Y/N] laughed under her breath. _What a piece of work_ , she thought to herself in amusement. In all her living years she hadn't met anyone as... _obvious_ as this guy.  
"Well hun, if ya done starin', I got orders to bring you to the commander. Don't mind if ya wanna have a closer look, though." he said with a cheeky smile and a wink, causing [Y/N] to shake her head quickly, surpressing her awkwardness by looking away.  
He gestured to the left hallway and they started walking.   
"I'm McCree, by the way."  
"Your name is _Mcree_?"   
"No, that'd be my surname, _smart ass_. First name's Jesse. Everyone just calls me McCree, is all."  
"Fair enough. I'm [Y/N]. [Y/N] Morrison."   
[Y/N] stopped walking when she realized McCree trailed behind her. He seemed both shocked and confused. "Something wrong, cowboy?" [Y/N] chuckled nervously. It somehow seemed to confirm her earlier suspicion but she prefered to remain in denial.  
McCree coughed out loud, looking like a deer caught in headlights. "N-No ma'am. Pretty name for a pretty face, huh?"   
She didn't reply.  
The silence hovered between them after that, neither of them being able to come up with something that would make the tension less awkward. Instead, she got caught up in her own thoughts again. A dangerous act; she started to feel the fear nagging at the back of her mind once again.

"We're here."  
"I'm scared."   
She had no idea what caused to trigger that confession, but she felt embarassed about revealing her feelings to a random stranger. A fucking _cowboy_ , nonetheless.   
_God, I want to go home._  Whatever and wherever that was.

  
She didn't dare to look up, but she felt a warm hand land on her shoulder. A reassuring squeeze caused her to look up into the stranger's warm, hazel eyes.  
"It's going to be alrigh', sweetheart." he offered genuinely as if he could sense her sudden discomfort.  
 _Perhaps he's smarter than he seems to be on the outside._

  
[Y/N] sighed. "But what if it won't be?" she wondered hypothetically, hoping he would give her the right answer that would soothe her mind.

Mccree smiled.

  
"You're a smart gal. You'll figure it out."

 

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ambientforfilm (bandcamp) - (sad/emotional) - middle  
> ryuichi sakamoto - the revenant theme 2

Mccree left her behind after that. The nerves were setting her on fire, now, as she looked at the closed door in front of her.

Whatever was behind it would change her life forever, and everything she'd worked so hard on— _the mourning, the accepting,_ would've been for nothing.  
With her heart beating in her throat, she knocked on the door a few times whilst expecting the worst scenario. It didn't take long before a gruff voice called ' _come in_ ' from the other side.  
_That same voice_.  
With deep, steady breaths she opened the door. The atmosphere immediately changed around her; tension and emotion came flowing through her and it hit her like lightening.  
She stepped inside the eerily quiet room and closed the door behind her, trying her best to remain guarded but having a hard time doing so.  
The man sat in front of her behind a messy desk. He was wearing the same outfit as he did days ago when he'd ' _saved_ ' her. His visor concealed his emotions and she couldn't see his eyes. Eventually he looked up, or so it seemed, and he gestured at the empty seat in front of her.  
"Sit." he ordered abruptly as he put away a stack of papers. [Y/N] obliged and sat down uneasily, trying her best to hide her discomfort. She wiped her sweaty hands off on her pants and looked at him.  
"Why do you think you're here?" the man asked, who had yet to reveal his true identity, even though she already knew the truth.   
[Y/N] scoffed.  
"How about we cut to the chase and skip the bullshit riddles?" she replied, annoyed, as she tried to mold her insecure pose into a more confident one.

Putting on a mask wasn't hard; she'd done so all her life.  
_This little side act wasn't gonna change any of that._  
The man in front of her radiated confusion. " _What_?" he asked rather dumbly as he shifted in his seat.  
[Y/N] leaned forward. "You think I'm an idiot? Your colleagues aren't exactly good liars, either. How about you tell me why the fuck I'm here?"  
A symbolic pang in her heart caused her to lean back. Why did it have to be like this? _Why_? Her life could have been so different and deep inside it did matter to her. _It mattered a lot_. Yet she only revealed those true feelings when she was intoxicated.  
The hissing sound startled her and she jumped up in her seat. When she laid eyes on his face she felt nauseated.  
The face of a ghost.  
The face of somebody who'd been declared dead years ago.  
His blue eyes stared into her similar ones, his lips were parted and eyebrows furrowed in guilt. "I'm sorry." he said earnestly.

  
[Y/N] laughed mockingly and stood up. "You're _sorry_? That's _it_? After everything you're ' _sorry_ "? Good _lord_ , give me a break." she exclaimed, her sadness turning bitter in a matter of seconds.

Slowly but surely the betrayal started to kick in, like a punch to the gut, and she wanted nothing more than to punch him in the face.  
Jack closed his eyes and sighed, massaging his temple. "There's no easy way to put this. I don't expect you to understand—" "— _Ofcourse_ I don't fucking understand! All I wanted was a _life_ , a normal life, with a fucking _family_! You took that away from me, asshole. You took everything. Don't you realize that I spent **_years_ ** wishing I'd never been born?!" she yelled, angry tears starting to well up in the corner of her eyes.  
_God, hold back, please,_ she thought to herself. _He doesn't deserve this. He doesn't deserve to know the truth, not when he's been feeding you lies your entire life._  
The emotions were too hard to control.  
"You don't mean that." he said as he shook his head, his voice sounding as if were on the verge of breaking. He stood up from behind his desk and walked over to her, almost as if he was ready to embrace her.

  
" _No_ ," she said, already stepping back. "No. Don't come any closer. Don't you understand? You're supposed to be dead. I visit your fucking grave every goddamn year. Don't you get what you're doing to me?"  
Her voice was hoarse from the unshed tears, her head was aching and she started to feel dizzy.

  
"I did it to protect you. That was always my first priority. You're here because you're in danger—"  
"I don't wanna hear it. Don't you dare to play the _concerned dad card_ because you don't deserve it. Whatever the fucking reason, I don't _care_. I'm leaving."

  
Finally, the tears started rolling down her cheeks as she turned around to leave his office with a whirlwind of emotions in her brain. Her hair stuck to her tears stained cheeks as she slammed the door shut and walked down the hallway.

  
With no clear intention of how and when she was going to leave, she decided to follow the way Mccree had brought her, to the best of her ability; she couldn't think clearly any longer, her mind foggy with memories of what'd just occured a few seconds ago.

  
The tears started coming faster now.

She realized she went the wrong way when she walked straight into an open room, what seemed to be some sort of lounge. To her shock she wasn't alone; Mccree and a few random strangers were there. Luckily they were all in a conversation, although Mccree sensed her presence straight away and looked up at her.

  
His cheerful expression turned to shock as he quickly excused himself and wandered up to her.

  
[Y/N] left the room quickly; she wouldn't allow anyone to see her like this. Open. _Vulnerable_.  
Before she could quicken her pace, however, a firm hand stopped her in her movements and spun her around. Mccree looked worried and frowned. " _Darlin_ '... What happened?" he wondered carefully, almost as if she could break any moment.  
Wasn't she already broken, though?  
"I-I don't wanna talk about it. _Please_. Just.. help me get out of here, will you?" she replied honestly, avoiding his gaze whilst rubbing her arms.  
Mccree's frown intensified. "I'm afraid that ain't gonna happen, sweetheart. Your ole man wasn't kidding when he said you were in danger. A terrorist organisation's after ya."

  
_Ole man._

"Please, don't refer to him like that. He is _not_ my father and he _never_ will be." 


End file.
